


the creation of adam

by scumfucklesbian



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: M/M, One Night Stands, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Pre-Relationship, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Ronan Lynch Has No Chill, all boy parts are described very pretentiously, in which your local lesbian writes about dick, just be grateful i don't use the phrase light of my loins, plot: they fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 08:07:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19884370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scumfucklesbian/pseuds/scumfucklesbian
Summary: Michelangelo's Creation Of Adam was on the ceiling of a chapel, Ronan Lynch's new favourite past time was unravelling Adam Parrish in the room above a church.





	the creation of adam

**Author's Note:**

> i may be a flaming lesbian but love for adam parrish transcends all sexualities and genders, unedited as usual

The creation of Adam was housed in a chapel, a place of worship meant for the holy. The creation of _his_ Adam was in a place where virtues stayed clear of, nothing but damp darkness that clung like dirt and sin to pretty tan skin. Ronan had a fixation on the difference between Michelangelo's Adam and Adam Parrish, both works of art that demanded the attention of everyone in the room. Soft like oil paint, blended out in his edges, Adam really did look like a daydream. The concept of his existence was hard to believe, even more mystical than boys who came back to life and boys who could birth magic from dreams. The fact that such a beautiful creature, determined and prideful, could exist without the help of magic made Adam Parrish unbelievable.

Ronan was intoxicated by the scent of gasoline, the siren song from motor oil had always been his biggest lust. It was the dark smudges of gasoline that had tempted him into dancing with devils every night, it was the gleam of the oil that leads Ronan between Adam's legs doubtlessly. It was Thursday night which meant Adam had a shift at Boyd's just this evening. It was that particular work shift, the one unobstructed by any other responsibilities afterwards, that made sure Ronan would always come crawling back once the sun has set and his sins could be conveniently hidden in dark shadows.

Adam's thumb ran across Ronan's cheekbones, the burning mechanical scent impossible to scrub off so soon. 

With a single match, Ronan could be set on fire. The mixture of the gifted petrol on his skin and the hot flush of Adam's chest against his would no doubt lead to his destruction. Ronan groaned, satisfied with the way Adam nipped his teeth against Ronan's shoulder lightly, he would only allow whatever game they were playing to end burned in flames. Clever hands find their way to Ronan's hipbones, grinding him down onto Adam's lap and satisfying them both temporarily. There is shame between his legs now, unignorable and heavy. Adam gives him a knowing smile as one hand palms down the centre of Ronan's jeans.

In the painting, God reaches out and creates man. For the creation of _his_ Adam, Adam had always been the god, distant and worthy of worship. Instead of creating, Adam destroys men, ruins them beyond coherence. Or perhaps, Ronan was the only man Adam desecrated with his small smiles and clear blue eyes. He was ruined and fractured in the presence of that shy smile. Adam still blushed when Ronan shows up his doorstep, as if Ronan wasn't memorised every inch of him with his mouth and his hands.

Born from dirt, _filius terræ,_ made frommagic and dreams but the most beautiful non-dream thing Ronan has ever held. His Adam was the least human of them all, simultaneously more and less mortal than dream creatures like his mother and younger brother. His Adam had vines for veins and a heart capable of genuine love. Adam filled him with something warm, the same warmth that he yearned for when he dreamt about summertime at the Barns. With Adam, he was young and lost again, reckless in a way that did not involve danger. It was a craving, an artificial solace that Ronan wished he could learn again. Loving Adam Parrish, near or from afar, would always feel like coming home.

In Ronan's mind, dark, twisted and beautiful, there was little difference between Adam and the Barns. Both reminded him deeply of summer and countrysides, Adam's dusty hair a reflection of the hay they fed the cows at the farm side, his eyes the same colour as the lakes Ronan taught Matthew to swim in. Ronan loved both Adam Parrish and the Barns deeply. He wasn't allowed to have either.

The Barns, however, were loved because of the memorises cultivated there. Adam Parrish was loved for the hope of the future he offered, the dark end they were both running towards to blindly.

Ronan was panting now as Adam tore him apart, biting off pieces of him with his mouth on every inch of earth flesh he possessed. His favourite pastime was uncreating Adam Parrish, stripping off layer after layer until there was nothing left to hide. He would never let Adam feel like he had to hide, he was grateful Adam never felt the need to shy away when they were together.

His object of worship, demanding prayers from Ronan's lips in a language that didn't require words. Ronan's mouth taking in Adam's fingers around his tongue was enough speech between them, the moans that echo off the small room's walls was a morse code of the something they were both too afraid to say. They were fragile when they were together, no matter how rough and desperate their bodies were. A mistranslation, Ronan's twisting hands around Adam's flushed boyhood between their withering bodies meant lust while Ronan's slow pace meant _love_ instead.

His god was beautiful. Shallow breathed and starry eye, Adam look otherworldly. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration as Ronan jerked his fist up. He was always most ethereal when he wasn't as tense from overworking. The stress evaporated off him in waves along with his want, Ronan breathed in deep the scent of their desecration from the crook of Adam's neck while Adam kissed the side of his temple, like he was kissing all the dreams that slept there too.

_Adam Adam Adam_

Ronan sang hymns for him, got on his knees for hours to pray to a god who refused his devotion.

It wasn't enough. It was _never_ enough.

Adam sanctified him, smothered the hellfire constantly churning under his flesh. Ruined him back to the boy he had once been before grief laid her ugly hands on him. Adam's touch was like a balm that cooled him off, stripping off the grime that had collected on his soul after endless years of torment and war. Beautiful Adam with his boyish hands and nice knuckles. Elegant Adam with his constellations of stars kissing every point of tan skin that met the sun. Godly Adam with the canals of scars that disrupted smooth skin like small hills among meadows.

Adam was an alter of a boy that demanded worship so Ronan pushed him and his pretty mouth away, sliding down the bed edge and bruising up his knees. He needed to pray and confess without words so he did it in the best way he knew how. He took Adam into his mouth. 

Adam gasped, fingers running over the prickling buzzcut without demanding. Sometimes Ronan wished he had the patience to grow his hair out, just so he could feel Adam tug and take whatever he wanted from him. Strong thighs press together involuntarily, crushing Ronan's head in honey-sweet heat. He allows it, allows Adam to demand whatever sacrificed he could possibly wish for. His throat was raw even when Adam was so gentle, he powered through it, unable to wait for the moment he pops off and tries to speak again, only for his voice to sound mangled and ruined. That was always the moment Adam seemed to snap, his carefulness subdued into a hunger that only made Ronan throb.

Ronan hollows out his cheeks as he takes as much of Adam into his mouth, his eyes stinging with tears as he tried to keep them open while trying not to gag. He needed to watch the moment his god loss his immortality because of Ronan's mouth. Adam's hands twisted in the bedsheets and his toes curled, high strung ready for release. Because Ronan was selfish, he did not allow his god this, popping off and biting little violets on Adam's inner thighs. There's a broken sigh coming from above him as Adam tries to calm down, Ronan kisses the lilac flowers gently in apology. He wonders if Adam could feel how much Ronan adored him from the surface of Ronan's tongue on his mortal flesh.

His devotion to his god wasn't pure. It was filthy and gentle, too much want for it to be controlled and subdued. But Adam never made Ronan feel shame for being devoted to him. Ronan couldn't possibly be guilty when the god he adored was so ethereal.

Adam's breathing was still shallow when he wrapped his hands around Ronan's biceps in an attempt to pull Ronan off his knees and into bed with him again. Ronan didn't have to be prompted twice, laying flat on his back and eagerly waiting for Adam to encompass him again.

Adam rolled over languidly like his body was no longer his own. He was on top of Ronan like a blanket, knees slotting between his legs, Ronan wrapped his legs around Adam's waist. His motions were almost lazy now, the uncontrollable hunger nothing but a soft haze. The desperation always came later, for now, Ronan enjoyed the slow way Adam had to coax him open like he was a gentle creature.

Dirt coloured boy, Ronan wants Adam to plant his seed in him and let him bloom. He wants whatever this was to grow and become unbearable or wilt right now while Ronan was still capable of breathing without Adam's presence. Oxygen and sunlight were what most gardens required to grow. To Ronan, Adam was both. Immortal, the reincarnation of golden Apollo who supplied Ronan with air. Adam has nurtured the entire garden of Eden inside of him.

Adam has always been a merciful god, he would never leave his devotees starving. He fed away Ronan's hunger with his lips, Ronan greedily accepted the offerings even past the lines of famine. With Adam Parrish, it was hard to get rid of insatiability. 

A sharp moan escapes his lips when Adam finally sheaths an entire finger right to the knuckle into him. He feels Adam smile against his lips. There was no more hesitance between them, the doubt had melted many nights ago when they first started this dangerous dance. Now Ronan only took comfort in the feeling of Adam taking care of him, fully trusting that the only hurt the boy above him would ever inflict on him is pain Ronan begged for.

He was panting, out of character, his sharp edges sanded down by Adam's rough fingertips. He feels Adam crook his finger inside of him, brushing against his sensitive walls like sign language. They weren't talented in verbal communication but it was every other language they were fluent in. Ronan didn't even manage to bite out a harsh moan before Adam understood what he begged for and inserted another finger into him.

Adam takes his time, Adam always took his time, a patient ritual that demanded gentleness despite the frantic hurricane stirring in both of them. Ronan was decidedly less patient, withering and fucking himself on Adam's fingers he adored so much. Adam only shook his head fondly and coaxed out a few more shouts from Ronan's unwilling throat whenever his fingertips brushed inside of Ronan just right.

And finally, _finally_ , Adam grants Ronan his mercy and slips his fingers out, sheathing himself in Ronan's heat instead.

They moan out loudly when Adam enters, silently praying the church beneath them was empty. This is all Ronan dreams about sometimes, the moment Adam and he tangle their limbs together like tree branches and ivy vines. There are flowers blooming with pain and relief between Ronan's thighs, Adam filling him up like he was meant to. This was the only dream Ronan could never perfectly paint. The uncreation of his Adam, unravelling into pieces and losing control as Ronan tightens around him. The oil paint smudging until the lines between them were nothing but hazy blurs. The coldness and controlled refines that made Adam Parrish were nothing but suggestions as the grip he held on Ronan's hips tightened, his breath erratic and ununiformed. This version of Adam Parrish was the one only Ronan was allowed to witness. When Adam shed any form of mortality and proved to be the god Ronan worshipped loudly and soundlessly.

Ronan was a one-man cult.

Adam took Ronan's bottom lip between his teeth until they were bitten cherry red. Tugging and taking, he swallowed down every prayer Ronan's throat forced out as his hips snapped forward slowly. It was a tidal wave, crash after crash until Ronan was weak and tired, giving in to the harsh lulls and allowing himself to drown in Adam's embrace without a fight.

Adam shushed softly with every shift he made, convincing Ronan he was doing so well while their eyes met. His eyes were damp with a thin layer of moisture and flickered with stars. Ronan kissed his cheek with a sigh.

Loving Adam Parrish was like sinking your feral teeth into fresh pomegranate and letting the juice run down your chin and onto your chest. You never meant it to happen but it was so sweet you never minded. 

This was the best part; when they both let themselves go of their control and their humanity, two magicians who existed on a different plane than everyone else. Two bodies made of lines and muscles, skin and blood. Ronan couldn't tell where he ended and where Adam began, smudged and one and the same. Just one creature made of teenage lust and _something else_ they were too young to understand yet. They were entwined in an ingrate pattern like the ink on Ronan's back, intangible and inseparable. Ronan never wanted it to end.

But it does, because it has to. They couldn't spend the rest of eternity fucking, even if Ronan thinks its not too bad of an idea. Ronan bursts first, like fireworks and rushing streams. Adam has an arm wrapped around Ronan as he fucks him into completion. This was beyond dream creation. This was desecration and sanctification. Everything good and bad that was meant for places of worship like churches and chapels and Adam Parrish's bed. Ronan sang hymns for his god as he came, like he once did when he was in the church's choir. It was a horrible comparison to make but the most honest one. Adam was his religion and he was a devoted martyr.

A selfless god, Adam always made sure Ronan got euphoria before he did, groaning in that muffled way he always did when he was finally done. Ronan flinched at the overstimulation of being filled, patiently waiting for Adam to slip out and clean them from their mess of emotions and bodies.

There's a kiss to his temple, far more intimate than whatever they had been doing prior, it was Adam letting his walls down and Ronan confessing his honesty. His worship was not casual. Then the room above the church's light was finally switched off and an arm snuck around Ronan's waist, hesitant gentle, no teenage hormones to blame for their softness.

Ronan smiled to himself, Adam kissed the junction where his neck met his shoulder blades, blooming with lavender.

Ronan was devoted to Adam Parrish, his creation from gasoline and dirt to his unravelling into a mortal with flushed skin and sweet smiles.

Adam kissed him goodnight once more, between the shoulder blades this time, like he understood Ronan's confession clearly.

**Author's Note:**

> i am on a writing streak lads, after years of no content, the muses are finally sick of my bullshit and have sniped me in the head with a lot of soft feelings for ronan lynch and adam fucking parrish.


End file.
